Page 83 of The Hunted
Santino smiled. “I can practically feel your violence.” He reached into his pants. He pulled his cock out and started stroking himself. “You want to do all sorts of painful things to me. I can see it in your eyes.”
Silva zeroed in on the way his gloved hand shifted up and down. His grip tightening at the top. His breathing was becoming labored too, and he widened his stance.
“But you know what else I see?” A ragged groan was torn from his mouth. It made her pulse spike. She squirmed on the bed, damn near salivating to taste him.
“I can see how wet your pussy is getting. It’s tempting me to slide my cock inside and fuck you until you can’t breathe in anything but my name.”
She whimpered, her hips moved on their own, humping the air damn near desperate for him.
“And your mouth?” His chuckle turned into a harsh moan. “It’s begging me to let you wrap your lips around me so I’m the only thing you’ll ever taste. You want that don’t you, princess?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded harsh. She was going out of her mind, strapped to his bed, unable to do anything but watch him fuck himself while her body was ready for him to use.
His strokes had increased, and her eyes rolled at how vocal he was being. How gruff his moans and whimpers were. It felt like he was rubbing his stubble across her inner thighs when he buried is face in her pussy. Or when he kissed her neck.
She wondered if she could climax like this, from just watching him come undone and being immobile. She could feel it there in the background. There was a tingling sensation in her lips, and her breath was choppy.
“You want to touch yourself, don’t you?” He gripped the leg spreader bar, leaning over. His strokes were almost chaotic now. She could see his muscles bunching. He was close, and that made pleasure bloom in her chest.
“I’d rather have your hands on my body.” Her voice was raspy. Her body turning into a person built for pleasure. “But if you’re feeling generous, cum on my tongue.”
“Fuck. Me. Princess.” He grunted. His body jerked forward in one harsh push. She watched as his cum spilled across the spreader bar, the end of the bed, and his gloved hand.
To say she was a little disappointed that he was wasteful was an understatement. She wanted him inside of her.
“Fuck, look at the mess you made me make.” He lifted his hand and walked toward the other side of the bed. She licked her lips, eager to take what he offered, but he slipped his fingers inside of her instead. “I hate not having you filled up with my cum.” He fucked her with his fingers, slowly at first while his other hand wrapped around her neck, pinning her to the bed.
She met his gaze with a smile of her own. She was rewarded with a low growl and a vicious kiss that had him drawing blood from biting her bottom lip.
“Look, I made you bleed.” He licked her lip. “Red looks so pretty on you.” He stared at her mouth in a trance. His fingers slowed their torment inside of her, causing her to squirm. She tried to move her hips to make up for the pace.
His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared. Her nails dug into the restraints as his grip on her neck tightened. She could barely breathe. The lick of fear was building. Her heart was in her throat, even as she felt herself getting wetter for him.
“Santino.” She struggled to say his name. There were black spots dancing along her vision.
“You won’t even say yellow or red. But I can hear you struggling to breathe,” he murmured in that awe tone she was coming accustomed too. “You either trust me that much to know when enough is enough….” He leaned closer to her. Her initial reaction was to flinch or squirm away, but she held herself steady—barely, going by his amused expression.
“You have zero self-preservation, or,” his eyes narrowed, “you don’t think I’ll keep squeezing.”
Santino was quiet for a moment. His eyebrows drawn down as they stared at each other. Her fear and arousal were blending into a toxic cocktail that wasn’t weighed evenly. Her heart was beating too fast, and even if he let go she wasn’t sure she’d be able to catch her breath.
And still she refused to put a stop to this.
“I don’t think I like that very much,” he growled, and she gasped loudly when he squeezed harder.
Say it.
The thought popped into her head, but it refused to pass her lips. It was like they were both playing a game of chicken. When she was dressed and outside of his orbit she’d figure out the whys. But right now, she fought to keep her eyes open and on him—hoping he’d break first.
“Such a stubborn brat,” Santino chuckled, loosening his grip.
Before she took her next breath, he was pulling his fingers out of her and inserting the vibrator again. The minute the second attachment touched her clit, she was gone, thrown off the cliff without a single warning. Her body basked in it, and her mind completely shut off.
“You’re doing such a good job, Silva.” She felt his words against the side of her head as he kissed her. Her body jerked. She tried to get away from the sensations of the vibrator and his gentle touch, but there was nowhere to go. She could do nothing but ride out this wild wave as he played her body like a flute.
“Shh, easy, Silva. I’m here.” He kissed under her eyes, and it was only then that she realized she’d been crying.
He slowly removed the vibrator, but she didn’t have a chance to burrow inside of herself. His lips and hands were everywhere at once, unhooking her restraints both at her wrists and ankles. He then scooped her up while her body continued to shake and shed tears she had no clue why she was crying.
